


Within (Markiplier/Reader)

by In_Wolfs_Clothing



Category: markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Friend, Pregnant!Reader, Reader Insert, Romance, Short Story, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Wolfs_Clothing/pseuds/In_Wolfs_Clothing
Summary: After months of reoccurring fainting spells, tension rises between you and your concerned boyfriend, Wade. Denying you are sick, you leave in an attempt to seek your own happiness. Little did you know, those lapses in consciousness soon lead to a nauseous feeling in your stomach, and a reminder of one fateful night that you were with a man who wasn't Wade. Now, you must find happiness for not one person - but two.
Relationships: Lordminion777/Reader, Mark Fischbach/Reader, Mark Fischbach/You, Markiplier/Reader, Markiplier/You, Wade Barnes/Reader, Wade Barnes/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. Introduction

I wrote this story back in August 20 of 2015. Because of its age, it is not my best work - nor does it really reflect the things I publish nowadays. However, it's the first story I was truly proud of because I was able to finish it and make a somewhat understandable plot. Please be gentle with it. As I republish it, I will try my best to revamp the story. Plot holes and awkward dialogue may be somewhat apparent, but I hope you still enjoy!

For the dreams, there will be the symbol " zZ~ " for when it starts, and " ~Zz " for when it ends.

As for flashbacks, there will be the symbol " %~ " for when it starts, and " ~% " for when it ends.

Enjoy!


	2. Chapter I

Your chest caved the first time you saw them holding hands, though you were in a supposed happy relationship yourself. The moment your eyes locked with his as he clung to her palm, you felt yourself grow weak. You shivered and your eyes stung. Racing home, trying to seem inconspicuous, you had pulled your shrug tighter around your shoulders. But still, the shivers turned into shudders and they wouldn't stop, not even as you tried to get comfortable on your home's wooden steps. You couldn't understand it, and maybe you didn't want to.

Confused and helpless, you reached for your bag to get your keys, only to find it wasn't strapped around your shoulder. Groaning internally, you moved your head side to side, and that was when you toppled over.

Dizzy. You felt so dizzy. Your eyes rolled without command and your whole body tingled as if it were getting no circulation. Then you shuddered. Again. And again. And again. 

What time is it? Where are you? What is going on? 

You asked yourself these questions many times, still finding no answers as your world went black. You wanted to cry and scream for help, but you were rendered silent; with no cure.

Shaking but not cold. Crying but not upset. Numb but not dead. 

You went stiff, feeling the now damp floorboards against your throbbing shoulder and cheek. Cold drops of what you assumed was water gently hit parts of your body every now and then. _Pit, pit, pit_ went the rain on your porch's awning.

"(Y/N)?" You watched blankly as your boyfriend came into view, dropping the plastic bags he carried to rush over and help you. Once crouching down beside your limp form, his hands roamed to your biceps and carefully pulled you to a sit. There, he surveyed your face, his eyes trailing elsewhere to make sure you weren't hurt. "What happened?" He asked quietly whilst wrapping you in a warm hug.

You remained silent, losing your voice somewhere in the process of creating words. The man seemed to understand, releasing you before slowly helping you up and walking you inside the home. There, he removed your knitted shrug and carelessly threw it aside before leading you to the living room's couch. Pushing you down lightly into the furniture, he eyed you another second before returning to the outside, most likely to get the groceries he left behind.

Another minute passed as he had come back inside, shut and locked the door, then set all the bags on the kitchen counter. Once done with those simple tasks, he made his way to you again, sitting on the couch's armrest.

"Where's your bag?" he inquired. You were surprised he remembered you leaving with it.

".. P-Park.." was the only thing you were capable of saying.

The male sighed a bit, rolling his shoulders before resting a hand on top of your hair and leaning down to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. "Guess I should get it then."

Suddenly, another shiver rocked your body and you felt the motivation to speak. "Wade, I --"

"It's not a problem, okay?" He stood, tone sounding the slightest bit irritated. Zipping up his coat, he hesitantly swiveled on his heels to face you. "But this's been happening a lot, (Y/N). I'm worried."

"It's..," you tried to find the right words to convince him, "just a phase. The doctor said so."

"Bull."

His angered voice and narrowed eyes surprised you; he rarely got mad. Though, seeing your shocked expression, he seemed to calm down a bit. For better or for worse, you didn't know. 

"I know you didn't go to the hospital."

"I did too!" Now, you raised your voice. 

"Then why is your bag at the park?"

"Because..," another pause as you tried to think of the right thing to say, "I decided to walk through there on the way back."

"You didn't take a bus?"

"I was a bit tired of people after sitting in a waiting room for so long..."

"It's 10 miles away, (Y/N). If you had actually walked, you wouldn't even be home right now."

Your eye twitched unconsciously, knowing you had lost the small, meaningless argument. "So," you grumbled, looking down as your fingers intertwined, "what if I didn't go?"

"Then I guess I'm taking you over tomorrow afternoon." He turned again, heading for the front door.

"Wade! I told you I'm _fine_!"

He twisted the doorknob, quickly stepped out, then slammed the entrance shut behind him. He didn't even say he loved you. It had been such a usual thing for the both of you, it hurt now that he had broke the routine. 

If routine was the right word to use.

Guilt swirled around in your gut and you glanced over your shoulder at the awaiting groceries. You knew you should put them away since the refrigerated items would surely turn to rotting soon enough, but, just for spite, you let them be.

Instead, you hesitantly got to a stand, and after making sure your head wouldn't start spinning again, you made your way to the guest room. There, you dove for the bed, curling the crisp sheet between your clenching fists. Bringing part of it to cover your face, you began to cry.

Solid, wet trails created paths and detours around your cheekbones; you knew your mascara wouldn't last through the day. The aching in your chest returned, and for some odd reason you welcomed it. It was a nice reminder that you still felt enough love for Wade to receive the hurt, too. 

But as your memories flashed back to that other man, your heart couldn't help but feel indifferent. Comforted at the thought of him holding you instead. Of him saying he wanted you. Of him doing anything and everything to make sure you were perfectly, 100% A-OK. 

And you fell asleep, shamelessly thinking about your boyfriend's best friend. It was just a stupid crush anyway. You were sure it wouldn't last.


	3. Chapter II

"What do you do for a living, Miss (L/N)?"

"I just work at a little bookstore off of Montana Avenue." Your smile was tight. You knew your part-time job was nothing in comparison to the nurse in front of you.

"Interesting."

You shifted uncomfortably in the plastic chair, legs firmly crossed. Quickly tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you rejoined your hands and cleared your throat. "Yeah, it's nice..."

"I understand you're having some troubles with..," the suited woman let her glasses slide down to the end of her nose as she read off her clipboard, "fainting and night terrors?"

Your lips pursed, nails digging into your thighs. "It's nothing, really. I think it's just low blood sugar." You laughed awkwardly as her stare bore into you. "Sometimes I'm in a rush to get to work and I forget to pack lunch, or -"

"Miss (L/N), your partner states this has happened quite often. He said that recently it has become even more frequent. Have you ever blacked out more than twice in a day?"

Pride is a darned thing. There is nothing wrong with you. This is just a phase. "I can't remember," you lied. Just a few days ago, you fainted at least three times. 75% of your day was blasted from your memory.

"Does your family have a history of dementia or narcolepsy?"

"No, ma'am, not that I know of."

"Your BMI seems to be regular. You said you've been skipping meals?"

"Well, no. Not intentionally of course-"

"Have you experienced abdominal pain or diarrhea?"

You sighed, fingers tightening. You shook your head. "No, no. Ma'am, I hate to be a bother. I really don't think there is anything wrong with me, my boyfriend is just overreacting, really..." You could feel heat crawling up your neck. "I'll definitely be more careful with my meals from now on."

The nurse looked at you silently. She could see right through you. Still, she couldn't give you treatment if you refused. She hooked her pen to the top of the board, standing from her stool. "Well, I'm going to call for some others. Someone will be back to take a sample of your blood." She patted your knee politely before heading for the door. "We may do a CT scan later on, so keep an ear out for that too." And with that, she left.

"(Y/N), listen to me. You need help."

"Wade, I'm perfectly fine. They even said so. They showed you the scans, what other proof do you want?"

He grabbed your arm, stopping you from the walk to your bedroom. "Your scans being clear doesn't mean you're fine." Irritation crawled its way into his voice as his eyebrows strung together. "You're taking the medication, (Y/N). You have to."

Your stomach churned at the expression on his face. Why was nobody listening to you? "I'm not taking any of their pills," you stated firmly. He hadn't let go of your arm and your skin was beginning to burn. You felt trapped and sought the only escape. "I'm not _sick_! You just want an excuse to make me stay!"

Rage filled his eyes, just the same amount that was drowning your gut. His hand raised subconsciously and instantly, your anger faded to fear, and fear to adrenaline. One arm blocked your face while the other crossed your stomach. On instinct, you rammed your knee into the closest thing that would hurt.

After a cry of pain, Wade released your arm and fell to the ground. Crying yourself, you gathered enough wit to run to the bedroom. Rummaging through the dresser drawers, you threw all your clothes behind your shoulder before ripping open the closet and tugging out your suitcase. Just as you zipped it up, he entered the room, hunched and leaning against the door frame. He seemed calmer now, but saddened at the act he had caught you in.

"(Y/N)..," he started.

"Don't even talk to me. It's over; I'm done."

"Listen -"

"I told you a million times that I was perfectly fine!" you sobbed. You hands frantically worked to pile the clothes in your suitcase. "I'm sorry you felt like you have to gaslight me into thinking that there's something wrong with me!" You turned on your heels, facing him. You took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I'm not happy with you," you murmured.

"(Y/N)..." He seemed incredulous. "I've waken up to you screaming almost every night for a month."

"And you know what, Wade? Chronic nightmares are usually a sign of some deeper unhappiness. Did you know that?"

The anger returned to his voice. " _(Y/N)_ ," he warned.

"Leave me alone." You snatched your shrug from the bed and rolled your suitcase out the door, banging shoulders with Wade as you passed. "I told you it's over."

He remained silent as you walked down the hallway, passing halfway through the kitchen and living room to the front door. There, you pulled on your shrug and opened the entrance, rushing out with your case in hand soon after.

Your bag rumbling and grumbling against the gravel driveway, you ignored the fact you had no where to go. Glancing back, you saw Wade standing in the doorway, looking out at you. He didn't give chase. After everything you had done to get away from him, him giving up still made your chest heavy.

A few neighbors peeked from behind their curtains as you traveled past their gates, none of them inquiring about your feverish pace. Finding a bus stop, you fell limply on the metal bench and pulled your belongings close to you. Though you knew Wade wouldn't come after you, you still felt anxious. As if you knew there was something else coming.


	4. Chapter III

**_zZ~_** You held her in your arms with all the life you had left. All the warmth in your trembling heart. All the strength in your shaking fingers.

She would grow up to be beautiful, you could tell. Your lips curved at the thought of telling her just how many hearts she would break when she was older, but the words never actually came out. And as she stared incredulously into your eyes, grubby fingers clenching and unclenching for you, you felt that, somewhere, she already knew.

Her shimmering, newly set front teeth slid into view as she giggled, head rolling to the side unconsciously. You fought back the urge to laugh along with her.

Eyes trailing back to your face, she grew curious again. You looked horrible, the two of you grew to accept that. Your cheeks were sinking, your eyes hollow and dark. You lips paled each hour, cracking and drying in the sun's hidden rays as your skin fell loose around the ever-prominent bones in your fragile body. You often blacked out and when you awoke again, you feared the chances of your baby being missing.

You didn't want anyone to take your sunshine; your little star on a dark night. She was surely the only thing you kept fighting for, living for. In a world full of pathos and rumbling clouds, your torn clothes compared nothing to the softness of her face. Her utterly perfect face.

Running a single, bony fingers along her chubby cheek, the smoothness felt impossible. You wondered silently how anything could be so beautiful. Her round and flushing cheeks circled so easily around her (e/c) eyes, small strands of auburn hair framing the baby-ish features of her face.

A single tear escaped your right eye, conforming around your cheekbone then sliding carelessly to your jaw and finally to the ground. She found this thought-provoking, looking to the shining, wet trail before meeting your eyes again. She reminded you so much of yourself, with the curiosity and glimmering (e/c) orbs. You couldn't help but nuzzle your nose against the side of her face, lips trailing her plump cheek with feather-like gentleness. She was such a fine piece of china in your arms, you didn't dare use any excessive force. For all you new, she could crumble and crack in anyone's grasp.

And within a single blink, another grin formed on her lips, pale pink and shimmering. You were definitely sure many would be wrapped around her little fingers soon enough.

"(Y/N)?" The name surprised you as it slipped from her mouth with a mature tone. You waited another moment to see the anomaly happen again.

"(Y/N), hey, get up." But this time you heard the faint sound of traffic, whipping your head around to acknowledge it before turning to her again. Yet, she was not in your arms anymore. Panic filled your chest and a wrenching consumed your gut. Finally, someone had taken your sunshine.

"(Y/N), seriously." The wind whispered and you screamed back at it carelessly.

"My baby! Where's my baby?" The screech tore from your throat and you felt yourself jolted by an unseen presence. You didn't care about that. "Who took my baby?" You screamed in agony again. **_~Zz_**

"(Y/N)! Listen!"

Suddenly, the world was drowned in black before everything became bright again. A wooden counter came into view and you quickly brushed it off, sitting up without hesitation.

"Where did they take my baby?" you cried in the midst of confusion.

"(Y/N), look, it was just a dream." The person grumbled. It was a familiar voice, but it still took a few seconds to really recognize it. The fog began to lift.

You sighed in relief to see the source of the voice was only Drew, your best friend. Launching into them, your arms squeezed tightly around their neck, searching for some sort of comfort.

"It was so real," you whispered, the image of your young, imaginary daughter flashing blankly before your eyes again.

"I can believe it," was Drew's simple response. You ceased your search for safety and warmth, pulling away and rubbing your bicep awkwardly. They stared at you, concerned. "You were screaming, (Y/N)."

"Was I? I'm sorry." Your nails dug into your arm. "I didn't mean to scare you."

They snorted quietly, arms crossing. "Scare me? Nothing scares me."

Your eyes rolled and you shoved lightly at their shoulder, glancing around at the bar before you. "I'm guessing you need help closing up?"

Their playful attitude continued. "Nope. While you were reenacting a violent version of Sleeping Beauty on my counter, I got everything up and put away."

You turned puzzled, an eyebrow raising. "I didn't wake up throughout the noise?" It was a rather rhetorical question, you didn't mean to say it aloud.

"Guess not. You were sleeping like a baby."

You raised a finger, eyes trailing shamefully to the ground, a certain guilt and fear bubbling in the chasm of your chest again. "Please don't use that word around me right now."

"What? Ba-"

You snapped a dark glare at them and they quickly silenced themselves. A moment of utter peace settled down before Drew side-stepped and grabbed their coat, pulling it on before adjusting their hair and sending you a glance.

"Ready to go, sunshine?"

The pain twisted in your stomach again, but you ignored it. "Yeah. Let's get out of here, I'm exhausted."

Your friend sent a sideways smirk, heading for the door, keys dangling in their fingers. "After all that screaming, I think I'd be tired too."

"Don't remind me."


	5. Chapter IV

"How long does it take before a pregnancy test can tell you're pregnant?"

"Do I look like I would know? I don't even like kids. Google it or something."

It was the usual response from Drew. _"I don't even like kids,"_ they repeated the phrase like a preacher to a bible verse. You knew someday they probably would be surrounded by the pitter patter of little feet and wouldn't regret one second of it.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you slumped into the couch and brought your knees to your chest, quickly using the Google search bar shortcut to type in your question. The most reliable answer was six to twelve days after conception. Ticking off your fingers after placing the mobile down, you rounded that it had been at least three days that Mother Nature had missed her mark. The off-date wasn't that worrisome - as this was usually the case with you - but after that traumatizing dream about losing your imagined baby daughter, you couldn't be willing to take any chances.

"Tomorrow, do you mind going to dollar store with me?" It was a broad question that could mean anything but after the earlier inquiry it clicked with your friend.

They squinted at you from across the kitchen's bar. "Do you think you're pregnant?"

"No, I just.. want to be safe."

"Safe, as in..?"

"Safe, as in.. sure. My period is just a couple of days late, y'know?" Your gaze faltered from hers and you looked down at your lap, picking at the dirt beneath your fingernails. "But it's probably nothing." The reassurance felt like it was more for you, and less for your friend.

"Uh huh..." Drew seemed to be letting it sink it. You nervously glanced back up at them as they stared at nothing in particular. After a moment, they made a sour face and shook their head. That wasn't a good sign for you.

"What was that look?" Questioned simply enough.

"I just.. Wade?" They laughed to themselves and your heart ached at the name. "I hope they look more like you."

This time, it was your turn to have a twisted expression. You could've said something rude, something to defend him and your possible baby, but you bit your tongue instead. It hurt, yet you just kept clenching your jaw. When a stinging sensation filled your mouth, you settled for a neutral answer. "I don't even know if I'm actually.. _'with child'_."

"After that crazy dream you had, screaming _'Where's my baby! Where's my baby!'_ -" You cringed at the embarrassing and slightly painful moment "- I would think your suspicion would be right as rain."

"I thought we agreed to drop that topic," you grumbled.

"Agree to disagree."

A small growl rumbled in your throat and you curled into yourself, delving back into your phone.

"You are so totally pregnant. Already cranky."

"Whatever," was your final huff before resorting to a small game of Temple Run 2 on your device.

It was so, impossibly awkward. Your shoulders tensed and your fingers froze as your hand drifted across all the options. Why were there so many boxes for just simple test?

"Would you hurry up? My calves are burning over here." Drew whined, shaking their legs for exaggeration.

You flinched at the sudden interruption from your concentration. Randomly grabbing a box, your eyes skimmed over the information on the back before throwing it in the wired basket and moving on.

Just as you were about to head to the next aisle for some toilet paper, you heard a coo emit from your friend.

"Look at how tiny they are," came their now sing-songy voice. You turned on your heel to see them holding up a pair of newborn socks.

"Could you not," you grumbled lowly, head swiveling side to side to make sure no one was near.

"C'mon, (Y/N)! Admit it, they're cute."

You stared at them for a moment, emotionless. Then, you looked back at your friend. "I thought you didn't like children."

Your friend mustered an offended expression and grunted, throwing the socks carelessly onto the shelf. "Yeah, I never said I didn't like their socks, though."

You rolled your eyes and your head shook as you continued on to get the next thing on your list. You found the correct aisle and yet, just as your hand reached out for the plastic covered rolls, another coo was sent in your direction.

"Are you expecting?" It asked softly, a hint of joy in their tone.

Gasping lightly, you reeled your hand back and whipped your head to face the person. "Mandy?" you gaped.

"The one and only," she laughed, spreading her arms for a hug. You quickly responded by swinging your basket back and shuffling into her brief embrace.

"How's Bob?" was the first conversation starter that came to mind.

Backing up, you saw a sly smirk on the woman's face. "Don't change the subject, (Y/N). Answer my question." Though it seemed like a demand, she still held a cheery tone. It threw you off.

"U-uh.. I'm not really sure..?" Your stuttered sentence came out more as a question. You cursed yourself in your head.

"Guess that's why you have that, then?" Her nicely painted fingers gestured to the buried, pink box squeezed between a few other groceries.

Your eyes trailed to it and you immediately winced, stuffing your hand in the mess of objects and further hiding the test. "Er... Yeah, sure. You could say that."

The female laughed lightly, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Have you talked to Wade about it?"

The edges of the ever-growing hole in your chest began to burn. It was if someone were trying to cauterize your ever-bleeding wound. "We, uh.." You scrambled together a few thoughts and finally managed to spit out something that wouldn't lead to Bob's wife fully understanding the situation. "No, I haven't."

"Aw well, that makes sense. If you aren't sure, you wouldn't want to fill him with foolish hope." Speak less, and always let people fill the gaps with their own imagination.

Your eye twitched involuntarily. "Right."

"Are you okay, (Y/N)? You seem a bit pale."

Your vision had begun to seem a bit dim, eyes struggling to really focus on Mandy's face. For a second, you couldn't remember her face as it warped and blurred. You slowly blinked and reached out one arm to grip the shelf for support. "Uh... Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit light-headed is all," you chuckled nervously, trying to downplay what was happening. "I think I forgot breakfast."

Your excuse didn't convince Mandy to drop her motherly nature. "Let's get you some place to sit then, shall we?"

As her arms reached out, you quickly waved her off. "I'm fine, really," you told her politely. And it was the truth. Your vision had started to clear again, the Earth's gravity returning to normal. You praised yourself internally for not fainting.

"If you say so..." She seemed wary. "Well, I better get back to shopping now, don't need the husband to worry!" Another slight laugh escaped her lips. "Tell Wade I said hello, okay?"

Blinking multiple times, you mustered a small smile. "Yeah, sure. Will do."

"Goodbye, (Y/N)," she said as she turned to walk down the aisle.

"Bye, Mandy..." you responded, the reply coming out breathy and quiet.

"Hey, (Y/N), I got that - Whoa! You look like a ghost, are you okay? What happened?" It was Drew's voice.

You wrapped your arm around the thing of toilet paper and scooped it into your basket, exhaling slowly. "Nothing. Let's just get out of here."


	6. Chapter V

_zZ~_ It was dark. That's all you knew; the darkness. Its ever-flowing blanket always cocooned you unexpectedly, or just when you laid down for a while. You didn't know why this darkness liked you so much. But it comforted you, in some twisted sense. It took away all the feeling, all the bad days' memories. You didn't have to pretend - you didn't have to be anybody. You were nothing in the darkness. Usually.

This time, your unoccupied senses detected another.. existence. No, that's not the right word. Another... whiff of air. Of course, in the darkness, you couldn't see it. It was just nothing, also. But, you could feel this nothing with the skin you didn't have. The nerve endings that didn't exist began to tingle. A certain warmth had begun to fill the heart you couldn't possibly carry. And turning your nonexistent head down in the darkness, you saw a small glow of light. You could barely even see it at first, but it was there. The only thing igniting your darkness - it was there. You reached an invisible hand towards the light, it didn't waver. Cupping this tiny glow in your undeveloped palms, it sparked. You flinched, but the light just kept glowing. Trying again, you clasped the luminescence. You were surprised to see a blue outline of what looked like hands surrounding this bright thing. Your hands. 

In the darkness, you could finally see. And just for that, you started to feel very strongly for this tiny, shining ball of brilliance. You felt... the need to protect it. To hold it close and make sure no one took it. No one could ever make it fade.

The glimmer seemed to realize you felt this way for it, as it grew much brighter. And in another second, brighter again. It kept growing in vibrancy until your nonexistent eyes began to burn and water. But you still loved it. The light was blinding now, engulfing you. You could feel the faint brush of small arms wrapping around your calf. You blinked, and everything was dark again.

But looking down once more, you saw a body. Two, to be exact. You saw your body, finally, illuminated by the presence of a much brighter being that clung to your leg. That presence looked up at you, its eyes a shimmering shade of (e/c). And you knew instantly, that this was the light. Conceived within a split second. It was yours.

And suddenly you didn't feel so alone anymore. _~Zz_

"(Y/N), Jesus Christ, wake up! You're scaring me."

You obliged, abruptly swinging to an upright position, clonking foreheads with another thing. Whatever that thing was, it groaned in sync with you. 

Rubbing the skin above your eyebrow, you slowly dared to open your eyes, meeting another being. As your vision focused, you recognized the person as Drew.

"Ugh," they groaned once more, narrowing their eyes at you before removing their hand from their face. "Thanks for the bruise - just what I needed."

Lowering your hand to grip the granite counter nearest to you, your surroundings registered as a bathroom. Scrunching your eyebrows, you locked eyes with your friend again. "What happened?" Your voice came out as a raspy whisper.

"You came in here to do the pregnancy test then found me in the kitchen and said you had to wait five minutes or so before it would show anything. So, we just hung out and ate pizza, then when you finished, you went back to the bathroom and never came out. I got worried, came in here, and saw you were asleep." They took a deep breath, slumping on the tiled floor, legs criss-crossing.

"Is that all?"

"No... When I came in, you were just curled up on the toilet seat, crying. Whenever I touched you, you just jerked away. But I got you awake... Obviously."

Sighing, you rested your head back against the wall, enjoying the cold feeling of the toilet's glass surface. Then, you snapped your head back up. "Where is it?"

"What?"

"The test. Where's it at?"

Drew's index finger pointed out to the counter you still had a death grip on. Relaxing your knuckles, you slid your hand across the smooth surface until your fingertips glided along the plastic stick. Taking in a deep breath, your fingers entangled it and you looked the other way as you brought it to your lap.

Exhaling, you looked down and hesitantly turned the test over. There was a small, pink addition sign. Gulping slowly, the plus began to become brighter, turning a color of maroon as it burned into your vision. Blinking away the oncoming tears, you threw the test into the wired trash can next to you. 

Drew slightly leaned over your knees to look inside the trash. They must've gotten a glance of the test because they slowly slouched back. You sobbed.

That simple sob turned into tears, and tears into water falls. You began wailing and your friend quickly took you up in an embrace, pulling you gently into their lap. Rocking side to side in their arms, you covered your face with the palms of your hands.

"Shh," Drew soothed, "look on the bright side, hun. You're going to be a mommy and I'm going to be a god parent."

"A _single_ mother," you weeped.

Your friend sighed, tightening their arms around you and resting their nose against your hair. "If you love him, (Y/N), and he loves you... You can work it out," they reassured softly. You continued crying. "Who knows? Maybe the test isn't right. You know they aren't always accurate..."

"S-So what? Do I prance into th-the..," you hiccuped, "doctor's office and just ask?" Sniffling, your watery and puffy eyes filled with desperation as you looked to Drew for an answer.

They nodded slowly, squeezing your shoulders with their biceps. "That could be an option..." Sighing, they rested their head atop yours. "Hell, we can just go back to the store and get a different brand, if you want."

Your sobbing had calmed to whimpers while you curled against your best friend. After a minute of pure silence, they unlocked one arm from your torso and unrolled some toilet paper, ripping it off before handing it to you. 

You took it, lifting your shaky arms to wipe your nose. When everything was cleaned up and thrown away, Drew lead you to the couch.

After many hours of watching bad movies and hiding under thick, fuzzy blankets, you still found yourself wide awake. "Drew," you whispered

They startled for a moment, then relaxed, turning their head to you. "Yo."

"I'm scared to fall asleep." There was a soft rustle of sheets as your friend re-positioned themselves, then a sigh. "What if I don't wake up this time, Drew?"

"That won't happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because." There was a pause. "I won't let it."

You remained silent for a while."Drew..."

"Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

They searched blindly in the sheets with their hands before pulling out a phone. Squinting, they read the time on the screen, chuckling. "Eight in the morning."

"I'm hungry."

"Of course you are."

Your head lulled to the side, meeting gazes with your friend. "Do we have pickles?"

They snorted, looking up at the ceiling before turning back to you. "Pretty sure that wasn't on the shopping list."

You huffed, closing your eyes. "Dang..." Silence filled the air until a loud knock sounded from the front door. Groaning, you slowly sat up, then went to a stand. "Who's here this early?"

Drew yawned and stretched their arms. "I dunno, maybe a missionary. I can get it," they mumbled, sitting up too.

"I'm actually dressed," you teased. "I don't think a child of Christ would want to see you in booty shorts."

Your friend laughed, a small "suit yourself" escaped their mouth. As you walked away, they fell face first into the cushion you once curled up on. Smirking, you headed for the door just as another knock echoed throughout the house. 

"Coming!" You shouted, picking up your pace. Once at the door, you straightened your clothes and brushed a few fingers through your hair before turning the knob. You flashed a smile at the person, but it quickly faded upon realizing who they were. You breathed warily. "Mark..."


	7. Chapter VI

The corners of his lips curved upwards as he stuck out a hand. "So you do remember me." Mark's voice was even deeper than the last time you had spoken with him.

A cool breeze flowed in from the door and you shivered slightly as you took the man's warm hand. You stuffed down the surprise at how it practically hid your own - you had small hands anyways.

"A.. pleasant surprise?" You squeaked. You let go of his hand and cleared your throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh... Oh, right!" He flashed another grin before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a small paper bag. You eyed it carefully, noting your last name was scrawled in permanent marker on the pouch.

Your fingers interlocked with the crinkled sack, one finger digging into the top to peek inside. "This is..?" you inquired as your eyes searched for the unknown object.

"Pills," Mark responded nonchalantly. "Wade said you needed them." He swallowed harshly. "He told me this is where you were staying."

You blinked slowly, gaze turning upwards to meet the male's. Your nails froze in their opening process. "That's all?"

"He said he was sorry that he couldn't bring them to you himself, he's been busy." Mark's eyes wandered you, brows slowly scrunching together in a worried expression. "It's none of my business, but I hope you both are okay..."

Your arms unconsciously wrapped around your lower stomach, and a moment later you realized this, making them travel upwards so it seemed you were only crossing your arms. Avoiding his concern, you offered, "It's a bit chilly, would you like to come inside?"

Mark eyed you another second before giving a little sideways smile and nodding. "Sure, that'd be nice."

Taking in a breath, you stepped to the side and pressed your back against the door, gesturing a hand inside. You watched him carefully as he strode past you, a flicker in the back of your mind.

"Who was your lady friend?" It slipped from your mouth as you remembered the day at the park, where you saw Mark with another woman. How it burnt. The day you and Wade... You cringed, hoping that you spoke low enough so that he didn't really hear you.

But he did, his head turning to look at you. His eyes seemed deeper, more thoughtful. He knew what you were referring to. And yet, "Who?" was the only thing he said.

You stumbled on a few words, slipping behind him to close the door. "Can I take your jacket?" He stared at you for another moment and every hair on your body was beginning to stand.

"Yes, thank you." His voice broke both of your trances, an unimaginable weight being lifted from your shoulders. But you could tell he knew what had happened. He still remembered.

He shrugged off his jacket and you quickly took it from his hands before he could hang it up himself. As he turned to survey the foyer, you lifted the jacket up onto the coat rack. The smell drifting from it was so alluring, you almost forgot to breathe out. You were beginning to feel a bit woozy as certain memories impeded your thoughts

"Nice place," he commented. It was actually a bit messier than usual since you moved in, but you took his word.

"Thanks, but it's not really mine," you laughed. It felt forced. His eyes flicked to you again. He could read you like a book.

Turning away from his gaze, you threw your prescription sack on an accent table for the keys and headed for the start of the hall. Once there, you stopped short and gave a small smile to Mark before walking a bit more to the living room.

"Drew? We have a guest."

The day passed on normally. Mark was seemingly eager to join you and Drew for a quick breakfast (which happened to just be a multitude of cereal, but he didn't mind). When he left an hour after eating and you closed the front door behind him, everything was quiet. Too quiet. You stood at the door, unable to move. You listened to his car start across the street, then the tires rolling against the concrete, farther and farther away. After a few minutes, Drew came searching and found you frozen. After some coaxing, you let them lead you back to the living room couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Your friend had asked.

"I can't," you had replied. They settled for that.

Around noon, you had fallen asleep, Drew sticking around for another few minutes to make sure you didn't do anything odd. They left a note stating they would be at work until ten.

_zZ~_ Your world was surreal -- vivid and blindly vibrant. The surrounding walls were white, your bed sheets were white, the machines were white. Everything was colored of snow.

You wore nothing but rags, your skin deathly pale and bruised in certain areas. You could see your knuckles perfectly, elbows jutting out farther than usual. The only thing more prominent was the rather large bump below your chest and the tanned man standing at your bedside. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, hot hands clasping one of yours. It made you feel so tiny. You knew this man, this warmth. You felt as if you could trust him with anything.

An abnormal pain surged through you, and it continued as your vision went black. You felt yourself burning, licked by the flames of some luminescent presence - a presence you couldn't fully detect before. And now that you were aware of it, you felt the familiar feeling of completeness. Where was it?

Your survival instincts kicked in. Like a mother bear, you growled at the threat blocking you from your most prized possession. Your paws sinking into the powdery cold, you didn't mind that the freezing wind temporarily blinded you or pricked your skin in certain places. You just wanted your sunshine back.

And then, nothing. You weren't an animal. You weren't an innocent being caught in the merciless flames. You were in the darkness, again. Reflexively, you looked down, but saw only black. Not even your spark of light, or the small, glowing child with your eyes was there.

You felt empty.

You didn't realize your lids were opening, but suddenly your hands grasped the soft fabric of what you assumed was a blanket. Just like the hands of the man you held, the blanket surged in warmth and you lured it towards you. Only when it was stretched across your collarbone, did you get to see the (s/c) tone of your daughter's tiny, chubby face. She gurgled a giggle you remembered and you gripped her tighter, glaring at the other people that had appeared in the room. They were only shadows, but they were still threats.

Her eyes turned to you and you sighed upon seeing the mesmerizing (e/c). The only thing unexpected was her hair. Though she seemed to be only minutes old, she already had short, wavy locks of a deep black. One of your fingers coiled around a strand unconsciously, faintly remembering the darkness you once delved in.

A warm smile spread across your lips, and in your peripheral vision, you saw the tanned man from before smiling back. Your eyes hesitantly trailed to him, surveying the sincerity of his happiness. Then, his hair. It seemed wind-blown and a bit long, but it was... Purely black. Your smile faltered for but a second before it turned into a grin and you buried your face against the soft locks of your child. _~Zz_

_%~_ Your bare feet smacked against the polished, wooden floors, struggling to pull everything together when it was all strewn about. Finally managing to dress yourself with underwear, your pants, and shirt, you left your bra lying at whatever space it had lodged itself into.

Rushing to the bathroom, you set your bag down on the counter, quickly pulling out a small brush before running it feverishly through your knotted locks. Once it looked normal enough, you grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned off your smeared makeup, also spraying yourself in perfume during the process. Not having a toothbrush, you settled with popping a piece of mint gum in your mouth, checking the mirror one last time. You patted your back pocket to make sure your phone was still there then hopped out of the bathroom while pulling on a sock.

Practically sliding to the sofa, you slipped your feet into your shoes and scooped up your beloved black shrug. You glanced around your surroundings, internalizing them. With a sigh, you rushed to the front door with your bag slung over one shoulder.

Just as your hand unlatched the lock and you reached for the knob, a loud clearing of the throat echoed throughout the house. You suddenly felt very hot.

Pursing your lips, you reluctantly swiveled on your heel, pressing your back against the now unlocked door, prepared to make your escape. You almost choked on the name as soon as it slipped from your mouth. "Mark..."

"Save the apologies for someone more important."

Your eyes widened and the pace of your heart stopped for a brief moment, sending a shot of electricity through your nerves. "He doesn't have to know," you reminded lowly, your gaze wary as it rested on his cheek. You couldn't look him in the eye.

His glare pierced you upon hearing those words and you felt your hands begin to shake. "Oh?" was the only thing that left his mouth, deep and rumbling. His voice elicited a shiver down your spine. You had to shake away the memories of the previous night.

"Look, I really have to go, I was supposed to be home at -" You glanced at your watch quickly, sighing once you saw the time "Two hours ago."

Mark's eyes traveled down and he crossed his arms, leaning against the stairwell. "What are you going to tell him, then?" His voice was so low you could barely piece together his words.

A pit welled into your chest. You suddenly felt very, very guilty. Not for your ever-so-grateful and caring boyfriend, Wade, but for his best friend, whom you just cheated on him with. Drunkenly. Accidentally? You didn't want to call it an accident.

Standing at the door and staring at the helpless man, you couldn't find the words to say. He must've known it was just a mistake after one drink too many, right? It was just a mistake, right? A lapse in your judgement.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you knew you had no time for explanations but found that you couldn't force yourself to leave. "I'll tell him that I stayed out a bit too late, got a bit too crazy, and one of my more sober friends took me to their place to sleep it off."

"And I was never there," Mark whispered.

"And you were never there," you repeated, a bit more mournfully now. Silence broke the conversation for a few moments before you spoke up again. "Look, we can still be frie-"

"You said you loved me," the male growled, fists clenching as he moved to slouch on the stairs. "And I believed you."

"Mark -"

"Stop."

"I really didn't..." Your voice trailed off and you sucked in a breath, trying to calm yourself and find the right words.

"What? You didn't mean it? I kind of figured that out already."

"No," you groaned, rubbing your face with your palms restlessly. "No, that's not it."

Mark still held his angry tone. "Then what is it?"

"I just... I was drunk."

"That's the _easier_ way of saying you didn't mean it."

You had begun crying abruptly, frustrated with all the twisted thoughts in your mind. "That's not what I'm trying to say!"

The male raised his voice, too. "Then just say what you really mean!"

You desperately searched his eyes for some mercy, but found none. Swiping aggressively at the wet trails on your cheeks, you readjusted the strap of your bag and turned, opening the door.

"That's it? I just get nothing for an answer?" His voice was still drowned in rage. You could feel the venom in his words.

"If I told you, things would never be the same!" you cried, head drooping as you tightly closed your eyes.

"Maybe things should be different, then!" You heard the stairs creaking as he stood up from them, his footsteps reverberating against the walls until he could grasp your shoulder. You didn't pull away. "It sounds crazy, but there's this part of me that believes that maybe..." His fingers dug carefully into your skin. "Maybe I love you too." His tone had gotten calmer, there was desperation in his voice. He had never wanted anything more. But you couldn't stay.

"Goodbye, Mark." _~%_

You awoke with a sheen of sweat coating your whole body and a white note laying in your lap. You struggled between hyperventilating and screaming, but hurriedly flipped the piece of paper over, reading Drew's sloppy, handwritten note before slumping back on the couch.

You tried to catch your breath, but your lungs wouldn't cooperate. Your fingers tingled, twitching as if they were searching for an answer. You knew there was only one.

The baby was his.


	8. Chapter VII

Your hands shook as you held the phone to your ear, waiting for the dial tone to turn into a warm, welcoming voice. Your cheeks were covered with dry tears. You needed this.

"Hello?"

"Mom," you croaked. You couldn't manage anything else.

"Hey, honey. Everything okay? You sound sick."

"I have something to tell you." You hunched over on the couch, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. "Are you sitting down?"

"Yes, (Y/N). Is something wr-"

"I'm pregnant," you blurted out.

There was an excited gasp on the other end of the line, it made your heart drop. "Oh, sweetheart! This is such great news!" There was some rustling through the phone, perhaps her adjusting the phone against her ear. "I just knew it had to happen at some point! You and Wade are -"

"It's not Wade's." Silence. You almost thought for a minute that the line had dropped. "Mom?"

"Sweetie… Did you and Wade break up?"

"I-I…" You struggled for something that would make sense. "Yes - well, I think so. Pretty much." Flustered, your palm dug further into your eye. You were beginning to see patterns in the darkness. "But this happened… While we were still together." More silence.

"Do you know who's it is?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And you're sure it's not Wade's?"

You sighed. "Positive."

"And have you told this other man?"

"No, I- I don't know if I should. I don't know if... If he will accept me, or... Or _it_ \- I mean, the baby." You breathed out heavily, frustrated. "I just don't know what to do." Tears began to well up in your eyes again. You were starting to get tired of them.

"Well," she started slowly, carefully thinking over her next words. "I think if he's really the father, he has the right to know… But if you think he'll react negatively then I-"

"Mom, it's _Mark_."

"Mark?"

"Yes."

"Oh my lord, (Y/N)."

"I know. I know it's bad."

"(Y/N)..." Rustling, then a slow breath. "You and that boy…" She laughed a bit. "I told you. The heart wants what it wants."

"I thought I could forget about him," you admitted shamefully. You moved your fist to your mouth, biting one finger between your teeth softly. "I meant nothing to him except a few drunken encounters," you mumbled, "so I... I just tried to forget."

"You never forget about someone you love, (Y/N)."

"I don't l-"

"(Y/N)," your mother interrupted softly. "No matter _what_ you feel, both Wade and Mark deserve to know."

"Okay, Mom…"

She could tell you wanted to change the subject. "Have you seen a doctor about the baby, yet?"

"No, I- I haven't even considered it really."

"I'll schedule an appointment for you. If you need me there, call me, okay?"

"Okay, thank you."

"Get some rest, sweetie. You don't have to tell them right now. But don't wait forever. It'll be worse if they find out on their own."

You let out a breath you had been holding. "Okay, I'll do my best."

"Alright. I love you."

"I love you too." You sat silent for a moment, listening to the line crackle with interference. "Mom."

"Yes, love?"

Your nose began to heat up, fingernail picking at loose skin on your bottom lip. "I'm scared," you whispered.

"I know," she replied lovingly. "And that's okay." Your lips quivered, frown disgracing your face. "I'm here for you."

"Thank you." You could barely hear your own trembling voice.

"I'm going to get that appointment scheduled now, I'll text you the date and time when I know."

"Okay."

"Goodbye, sweetie."

"Bye, Mom."

Pulling the mobile from your ear, your finger swiped across a red button and ended the call as you sighed deeply. Sitting there on the couch, shivering and shaking only out of anticipation, you felt as if every option you had would lead to a dead end.

You considered calling Drew to see if they could come home early or at least spare a few minutes to work things out with you. Peeking outside and seeing the sun set, you knew they would be too busy to answer the phone. 

Truly, you understood that this was your problem, and only you could fix it. Finding the courage to do that though, would be a completely different task.

Tapping your fingers along your thigh, you laid your head back on the couch armrest and traced patterns along the ceiling with your eyes. You absentmindedly chewed on your bottom lip, filtering through all the possibilities once, twice, even three times.

Finally, after a few minutes of blank staring, you shook out of your trance and sat up, intertwining your fingers while you watched the muted TV intently.

"Look at how much trouble I got us in," you said in monotone, the only listener perhaps being the barely grown being inside you.

Pursing your lips, you looked down at your stomach and raised an eyebrow, feeling almost disappointed with yourself. You released another sigh before standing and heading for the front entrance. Once there, you glared at the prescription bag for a few moments before stomping over to it and snatching it off the table. You hesitated in heading to the bathroom, but wound up doing so anyway.

Slouching on the edge of the bathtub you reached your hand inside the pouch and pulled out the bottle. Staring at the orange-tinted plastic, you shook around the pills inside before turning it over to read the label.

Zolpidem, prescription drug. Take one pill orally as needed. 

You rolled the bottle again, struggling to find any warning about usage for pregnant women. Still, you were wary. And so, you glided across the tiles and back to the living room where you grabbed your ever so trusty phone and turned to the loyal Google. Simply typing in "zolpidem", the first answer plainly gave the pregnancy risk, rated C. That meant it couldn't be ruled out, so... You shook your head, shutting down the phone and dropping it on the couch cushions.

For yet another time, you returned to the bathroom and swiped the prescription, smirking at it before dunking it into the wired trash. If the dangers couldn't be "ruled out", you refused to take the medicine. You couldn't push yourself to do it, loving this unborn, little thing even if it didn't have a name, nor a full presence.

Trudging to the guest room, you pulled on your shoes and slipped on your shrug, passing through the living room to grab your phone and bag before leaving the house and locking the door.

Your fingers drummed along the wooden counter, one hand supporting your chin as you watched bubbles float to the top of your drink. It was currently eleven at night and you were waiting patiently for your friend to get off their shift. Of course, you should've been (and expected to be) home earlier, but Drew's replacement had called in sick, forcing them to work a bit of overtime.

Avoiding the gaze of wandering and hungry eyes, you had settled with grabbing a glass of Sprite so no one dared to ask you for a drink. You weren't feeling very sociable, and you definitely were not supposed to be drinking alcohol.

Finding a small break, Drew wandered over to you as you tried to get all of the ice cubes to go under at the same time. After twenty minutes, you were having no luck, not to mention that most of the ice was melting. You grimaced to imagine what the soda might taste like now.

"Bored?" your friend inquired, resting their arms on the wooden surface. They pulled your untouched drink from you.

"No... I'm thinking." You wanted so badly to be helped, but didn't dare to bring up the subject yourself.

"About what? You seem to be thinking pretty hard about whatever, so it must be important."

You unconsciously glared at a man that had walked by too close then flicked your gaze back to your stolen drink. Your eyebrows furrowed as your friend took a swig, coughing a bit afterwards. They mumbled something about it tasting flat.

"Trying to remember the last time Wade and I slept together."

Drew's expression twisted, repulsed by what you had said. "Ew, gross. Count me out." As they began to back away, you grasped their wrist tightly, almost feeling their bones rub together.

"I'm being serious." Your eyes bore into them, they looked worried. "I know I haven't been anywhere near that level with him in like… three months."

"So? Maybe you found out a bit later than usual." They shifted uncomfortably on their feet, examining you warily.

"Drew, if I was three months pregnant -" you gestured to your flat stomach, "- you'd be able to tell."

Your friend seemed to consider this, gently pulling from your hand before rubbing their wrist. You felt a bit bad, noticing a red ring painted on their skin. Within another minute, they looked dumbfounded and pursed their lips.

"So if it wasn't him, then who was it?"

You took a deep breath in, rubbing your face in your palms before looking back up at Drew. "Remember Mark from this morning?"

Their eyes widened and their jaw hung open a bit. "No..." They trailed on the word, making you feel even more miserable. "Your ex?"

You choked on air a little, wide-eyed. "No, no... We never dated."

Your friend raised an eyebrow. "You seemed suspiciously friendly together last year, if I remember right."

"That wasn't anything."

"(Y/N), you kissed him on my doorstep."

Your heart pumped a little faster and a knot wove into your chest. "How'd you know that?"

"We had a crazy reunion. You had been drinking. I looked out the window to make sure you hadn't broken your neck on the porch steps. You'd been out there a while for 'fresh air.'"

"It was nothing," you grumbled. "He was just as drunk as I was."

"(Y/N), he can't drink alcohol."

"What?"

"Is that why you were so upset after? Because _you_ thought it was nothing?"

"Drew," you warned. The offense was starting to be taken.

"Maybe _you_ had had a beer or two, but he was completely sober. He _wanted_ that kiss, (Y/N)." They eyed you up and down. "And I know you weren't drunk - tipsy at best. _You_ wanted that kiss too." Their arms were tightly crossed now. Too many gears were turning in your head. Your cheeks were flushed with warmth - from anger or embarrassment, you couldn't tell. They stood a little straighter, realizing something. "You started dating Wade to make him feel bad, didn't you?" They scoffed. "You wanted him to feel -"

"It doesn't matter!" The bar went silent for a brief moment, all eyes on you. Your breaths were heavy and uneven and the world was beginning to tilt. You steadied your hands on the bar to try to keep yourself upright.

Drew looked a bit shocked, then slowly relaxed again. Their arms unwound and they placed their hands on top of yours. "I'm sorry... That was too much." Eyes left you and the symphony of voices began again.

You shrugged, surveying the dim bar before looking down at your hands shamefully. "Anyway... About a month ago, I came here and got a few drinks with Mandy and Bob, just to celebrate their marriage since I couldn't show up at their wedding." Exhaling, your eyes narrowed at the tears pricking your eyes. "Mark had been visiting and he asked if he could tag along. Of course, we all said yes and... Maybe I had one too many." Drew's features turned sympathetic and they leaned over the bar to rub your shoulder. You quickly pulled away from it. "I remember him telling me that I had said I loved him, and that he believed me."

Your friend looked down, reeling their hands back. "Do you?"

Your eyes flicked up at your friend. "What?"

"Do you love Mark?"

You stuttered, unable to form words. "We couldn't... Wade would be so-"

"(Y/N), I know you're really not _much_ of a party girl. And I definitely know you don't like get wasted."

"So?"

"So, I think you were a little more conscious of your actions than you're admitting."

"That's - That's just not possible. I wouldn't just cheat on Wade. I'm not-" Your fingers dug into your scalp. "I'm not that heartless, am I?"

"(Y/N)," they cooed. Their hands drifted back once more to soothe you. "Look, maybe we're thinking too much about this." Their thumbs ran across your knuckles as they tugged your hands out from your hair. They were ignoring a drunken customer trying to wave them down from across the bar. "I think we should be focusing more on this baby, and making sure it's okay."

You shook your head lightly, tossing away all the thoughts of Mark. "Yeah, I-" You huffed, relaxing your shoulders. "My mom said I should see a doctor soon. And Wade sent me this prescription, that's why Mark was over, to drop it off. But Google said it could be a pregnancy risk and-" You went numb, freezing in place. All the hairs on your arms began to stand.

"(Y/N)?" Drew called worriedly.

Suddenly, the theory came tumbling out. "I slept with Mark a month ago, and that's when the crazy dreams started, when the night terrors showed up. I kept passing out all the time, and maybe it's just because of the stress. It's just my body's way of telling me I regret what I did!"

"But do you, really?" They fixed a lock of your hair behind your ear. "Do you really regret sleeping with Mark?"

Your stomach dropped and you felt your hands beginning to shake. You swore, for but a second, you could feel a tiny nudge in your abdomen. Placing a hand on it, your heart swelled. "No..." came the answer breathlessly. "Never."

"I think what you really regret is leaving." You searched for the sincerity in your friend's eyes. You found it. "Yes, you made a mistake, and that mistake is going to hurt Wade." Shame filled your gut. "But, (Y/N), if Mark is who you truly want... Then be with him."

"But -"

"No buts. Mark still cares about you, (Y/N). I could see it over breakfast. If he didn't, he would've refused to bring you that prescription." Drew finally began to walk away to their awaiting customers. "Talk to him."


	9. Chapter VIII

Inhaling deeply, you raised your fist in the air, watching it shake as your knuckles turned pale. Grunting, you let it drop. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock. You stuffed a hand into your jean pocket and pulled out your phone. Quickly taking a few steps back from the door, you pressed dial on a familiar name.

“Hey.”

“Drew, hey,” you sighed.

“What’s up? Everything okay over there?”

“I’m standing at Mark’s door. I can’t even knock.” You pressed yourself into a nearby corner of the patio, trying to hide yourself from any prying eyes. “I look like a creep.”

“What are you feeling?”

You bit your lip softly, gripping the phone against your ear. “I - I just don’t know if I can do this.” You were beginning to shake. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s scummy but can’t I just send him a postcard with the ultrasound?” You tried laughing away your unease. “Greetings from (Y/N), you’re the father!” you joked.

“I know this is scary, (Y/N).” There was silence for a moment, contemplation. “I can come over there if you want? Moral support.”

“No, I -” You exhaled. “That would just be awkward for everyone involved.”

“Just breathe.” You followed their gentle command, leaning your head back against a wall. “Take as long as you need.”

“Drew.”

“Yes?”

“What if he won’t accept it?”

“The baby?”

“I mean, not just the baby. What if he doesn’t accept me? What if he can’t get over what I did?”

“When you love someone, (Y/N), you can forgive them for crazy things.” You tilted your head back up at a small sound. A click. You were still as you waited for something else to follow. It didn’t come. “It’s scary, but it’s true.”

“He doesn’t…” You stared at the front door you couldn’t bare to lay a finger on. “He doesn’t love me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Everything between us, it was just heat of the moment.”

“You keep lying to yourself. Why?”

You were shocked by your friend’s frankness. “I’m not -”

“Stop protecting your heart when it doesn’t need protection.” Your nails picked at a loose thread on your jeans. The waistband was beginning to feel uncomfortably tight, you noted. “Why are you acting like this?”

Your breath hitched, memories swirling back. Glowing blonde hair, wide and beautiful smile. They didn’t touch, but there was some energy between them. They danced around each other in almost perfect synchronicity. They had practiced that movement of their bodies before.

“He was with another woman.”

“What?”

“I was at the park one day. Wade had wanted me to go to the hospital, but I didn’t see why. I went to the park so that it at least looked like I had left the house.” Your eyes were glazed over, recalling the moment perfectly. It was branded into you. “He was there with another woman.” Your brows furrowed with heartache. “She was so beautiful.”

Drew was quiet, processing your words. “I mean… Did they kiss or anything? Do you think they’re together?”

“I couldn’t tell,” you said mournfully.

“Well, I -” There was a sigh. “How many cars are there in the driveway?”

Confused, you surveyed the driveway briefly. “One?”

“Then, unless she doesn’t have a car, she probably isn’t there.” You shrugged your shoulders although Drew couldn’t see. “(Y/N), regardless of whether he has a girl now, _you are having his baby_. He needs to know.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I should just -”

The front door you had let your gaze drift from opened slowly. Shaken, you quickly hung up the call and hid the phone behind your thigh. Maybe you could press yourself far enough into the corner that no one could see you.

“(Y/N)?” called his voice. Panic overburdened your body. You couldn’t respond. The door opened wider and Mark stepped out, barefoot. He was dressed casually, sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. The drab colors of his clothes began to fade in and out. With every pulse of your heart, it felt like your brain pounded against your skull. Were you going cross-eyed? “(Y/N).” A hand laid on your bicep, warm. You looked up at its source. “Do you want to come inside?” It was too painful to nod, but he began leading you in anyway.

It felt like in a matter of a blink, you were sitting on a couch. The leather was cold against your skin and you pressed back into it, relieved. The cushion next to you dipped, making you realize your eyes were closed. You cleared your throat, opening your eyes and sitting up a bit.

“You okay?” The bridge of his nose was wrinkled a bit, but he gazed at you with soft, concerned eyes.

“Yeah, I was just feeling a bit dizzy.” Your world had almost returned to normal. A buzzing never left your nerves, or maybe that was just Drew calling you again.

“Water?” Mark offered. You were about to deny, but he had already begun to stand.

“Sure, thanks.” As he left to get the drink, you assessed the living room. It was minimal and quaint. “This is a nice little place,” you commented.

You heard a chuckle from across the kitchen island. “Yeah, not too shabby.” His bare feet smacked quietly on the hardwood as he returned to the couch. He carefully handed the glass to you.

You sipped on the water a bit before lowering the glass to your lap, clasping it with both hands. “So… What brought you back to Ohio?”

“Just felt like getting out a bit, I haven’t seen my friends in a while.” He smiled but the edge of your lip twitched at the word “friends.”

“This isn’t your place, then?”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “no. No, this is just an Airbnb that I grabbed.”

You nodded knowingly, but a certain question haunted you. “How long are you here for?”

“Just another week or two.” He eyed you. “I haven’t quite decided yet.”

You raised the glass back to your lips and took a gulp. The air was heavy with tension. He stretched his fingers out before gripping his knees.

“Listen, I heard you out on the porch.”

You choked on the liquid going down your throat, and you quickly set down the water on a nearby coffee table. He reached out, then hesitated before reeling back his hand. “Sorry, I, uh -” You cleared your throat again. “How much did you, uh… hear?”

His eyes turned to the floor. “That woman, at the park,” he started. Your heart felt heavy. “That’s Amy, my Creative Director. She flew out here with me to visit Bob and Wade, and everyone.”

“I’ve just never seen her before…”

“Yeah, she’s a little bit of a new addition.” His fingers twitched. “I have a new project going on, so I needed more helping hands.” Uncomfortable, you leaned back against the couch and crossed your arms tightly. “I had come out here a few months back for said project, that’s when she met everyone… Except you.”

“I didn’t know,” you said. It came out more passive aggressive than intended.

“And I apologize for that. I should’ve come to see you, but I thought after…”

You looked at him now. This was the first admission of what had happened between the both of you, even if it wasn’t fully said. You couldn’t blame him for not visiting you - you were still with Wade at the time. “I understand.”

He smiled sadly at you and there was silence again.

“I need to tell you -” “Can we talk about -” you both spoke over each other before pausing.

“Go first,” he extended, motioning with his hand.

“No, go ahead.”

His lips pursed in a tight line. “I want to talk about last summer, and… last month.”

You nodded slowly, agreeing. “I’d like to, too.”

His eyes lit up. Hope. “I just -” He fumbled with his words, something you were unfamiliar with coming from him. “I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m sorry,” you began for him. The crease between his eyebrows returned. “I don’t know how you still talk to me. I left… Twice.” Your eyes drifted shamefully to the hardwood. “Although, one was a little nastier than the other.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that summer.” Your breath hitched at his words. “We both knew that I had to go back to LA. And we had never established that there was anything… serious between us.” He shifted on the couch. “I just hadn’t expected to hear that -” Your chest wove in knots. “That you were with Wade, so soon after I had left.”

Your heart begged to shut down. To run. Anything except to be there, on that couch, and accept responsibility for one of your various, irreversible mistakes. _Mistake?_ Was being with Wade a mistake? Your hands clenched into fists, cheeks flushing. Your teeth ground with every wavering thought. “I was angry,” you finally admitted. With a crack in the dam, it was only moments before the water began to flood out. “It was immature of me, but I assumed at some point during the summer, you would offer me to go to LA with you. A month after we started… getting more friendly... that’s all I dreamt about. I never asked, and that was stupid. I don’t know why I didn’t just ask… But, a week before you left, I got so angry. I knew at that point, you wouldn’t ask. I thought maybe that meant I had just been a fling for you. Something to help pass the time.”

“(Y/N), I -”

Tears had begun to fill your eyes, but you hadn’t noticed. “And, even worse, I did something I thought might hurt you. I started dating Wade. I figured maybe if you saw that, you’d think you were just a fling for me too.” Your jaw was tight as the tears began rolling. You hadn’t noticed him sliding closer to you. “I figured maybe it’d just last a month or two, and then I’d be able to end it after I had made my point. But I felt so horrible for what I had done, I couldn’t hurt him like that… I eventually just convinced myself that I was happy. I fell into a tight routine, I kept myself busy - sometimes I made two or three meals at a time to avoid spending time with -”

His arms wrapped around you, hesitant, unsure. You shook from the contact. Maybe it was just the tears warping your vision. Slowly, he pulled you into his chest and sobs rose from your lungs. It was twisted, but everything felt so right.

“Th-That summer was… was the best few months of my life. For one - one of the first times, I felt l-like… like I was -” You couldn’t help but weep through your words. Every breath burned your lungs. “Like I was special.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to talk right now,” he soothed, lifting one hand to stroke your hair. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you looked up at him. When your nose began to sting, you pressed your face into his shirt.

“I wa-was childish, to just assume… assume that I was sp-special enough for you to - to take me with you,” you whimpered. His hands gripped you firmly, but not enough so that it hurt. You were safe in this embrace.

“Just breathe,” he hushed, attempting to pacify you. You couldn’t help but listen. 

As you tried to control your lungs, he continued to hold you. Suddenly, something small and cold landed on your scalp. A bit startled, you looked up. Grief filled you once you saw his face, wet with tears. He squinted, as if trying to hold them back. Your lips quivered as you shifted, resting your trembling hands on his face. With your thumbs, you gently rubbed away the drops that had fallen from his eyes. One of his hands cupped yours, and something came alive in you when you noticed him leaning into your touch.

“Last month,” you began slowly, “I wasn’t drunk.” His jaw flexed, eyes studying you. “I figured if I pretended that I was, you would try to take me home, and I’d be able to talk to you alone.” You took deep breaths. You were afraid of what you were saying, but you couldn’t move your gaze from him. “I never intended for us… for anything to happen between us. All I had wanted was to talk.” Sorrow coated his face again and you hushed him, caressing away his worry. “But,” your features twitched, bottom lip quivering, “that doesn’t mean I regret what happened.”

“(Y/N),” he said sadly. “I don’t understand… When you left, you made it seem like it had all been a drunken mistake.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It was so much easier to make you think that… that I was drunk, rather than… I knew you were going to leave, you were only visiting for the wedding.” Guilt burdened every limb, your hands slid from his face to his shoulders. “I couldn’t let you hurt me again, I- I couldn’t watch you leave again. And W-Wade, I…” You finally looked down, closing your eyes. Your face wrinkled in anguish. Everything felt like too much. What if he couldn’t understand? “I- I should’ve never, but I... “ Your hands traveled to your face, nails digging into your scalp. Gently, Mark’s fingers wove around your wrists, trying to relax you.

“I came back here for a reason,” Mark announced. You couldn’t move. “And I came back for you, (Y/N).” Slowly, you lowered your hands so only your eyes could be seen. “I couldn’t let us end like that… Something kept bothering me. I had to come back.”

Your thoughts floated around the word ‘us.’ Your hands lowered the rest of the way, falling into your lap. You swallowed dryly, then grasped the almost forgotten water. You took a few drinks before setting it back down. He watched you carefully, knowing that something was coming. You inhaled and exhaled calmly, attempting to find the right words in your head. You hadn’t noticed your fingers absentmindedly dancing across your stomach, but he did.

“You’re pregnant,” he breathed.

Shocked, you gazed at him, confused as to how he came to that conclusion. “How - How did you…?”

He sat back against the couch, just looking at you. His lips were slightly agape. “You’re pregnant,” he said again, as if he hadn’t fully believed it the first time it was spoken. “Is it…” He pointed a finger to himself. “Is it… mine?”

You gulped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one sentence from this chapter was from the original Within. Let me know how you liked it!


	10. Chapter IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴄʜʟᴏɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ. ɴᴏ sᴍᴜᴛ.

You both sat quietly over some Chinese takeout, a show you couldn’t quite place quietly playing on the television. Every time your teeth ground against one another it sounded deafening, but otherwise, the lull was peaceful. You hadn’t appreciated silence in a long time, it had made you feel lonely.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, a violent interruption. Mark glanced at you, still chewing on his food. Picking up the phone, you instantly recognized the caller ID and softly excused yourself from the couch. You answered the call but waited until you had stepped outside the front door to put the mobile up to your ear.

“Hey, Drew.”

“(Y/N),” they sounded relieved to hear your voice. “Are you okay?”

You calmly closed the door behind you, feeling the chill of the evening air. “Yeah, I’m alright. Sorry for hanging up so suddenly. Mark kinda, uh… Interrupted. I’m still at his house.”

“So…” Drew hesitated. “Does he… Does he know?”

“Mhm,” you confirmed. One of your hands tapped a pattern onto your thigh.

“And? C’mon, (Y/N), you can’t leave me hanging.”

“We talked about last summer and everything that happened last month. Eventually he just kinda figured out I was pregnant…?” You could almost see your breath in the cold. “I made a man cry, so that was… new.”

“Last time I made a man cry, it was my dad when I graduated high school,” Drew commented. “He thought I was going to fail.”

You snorted, shaking your head. You steered the conversation back, “He knows the baby’s his, I told him. I offered DNA testing, in case he didn’t believe me.”

“Don’t want to end up on Maury,” your friend joked.

“Uh-huh. Anyway, he denied it. He said he didn’t need it.”

“That’s what they all say until the kid’s born and they gotta pay child support.”

“Drew, hush.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

You swore you heard a creak of floorboards from inside the door. This time, you were sure the mysterious sound was Mark. He had a bad habit of eavesdropping. You decided to use that somewhat to your advantage.

“We haven’t talked much past that. He didn’t seem upset, just shocked. I don’t even know if he’s happy about it…”

“It’ll take some time, (Y/N). He probably needs to process.”

“Yeah, I get that. I just wish… I just wish I knew how he felt. Even if I wasn’t pregnant. How does he feel about me?”

“Just ask him.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Seriously. Grow a pair.” Once you let out a sound of disagreement, Drew continued, “Are you coming home tonight?”

“Probably? I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, well, I’m working late. You have the spare key on you?”

“Yeah, I got it. I put it on my keyring the other day.”

“Alright, be safe. No more babies.”

“Whatever. Thanks, Drew.”

“Byeee.”

After the call dropped, you quickly swiveled on your heel and swung open the front door. He stood there like a deer in headlights. After a moment, a sheepish smile graced his face.

“Spying?” you asked, smirking.

“Only sort of,” he replied. He took a step forward, grasping your hand to lead you inside, then he leaned around you to close the door. You glanced back and watched his fingers drift around the lock. Your heart ached. Eventually, he slid it into place before straightening himself.

It felt warmer inside the house than it had before you left. You decided to take that moment to explain. “I just wanted to tell you, that no matter what you feel towards me, I lo-” You stopped yourself, wringing your hands. “I really liked you. And even if you can’t be in this baby’s life, I’m not getting rid of it.” Your palms rested against your abdomen. You could’ve imagined it, but you swear you felt another tiny nudge. A serene feeling fell over you. “I - I love her. And for what’s it worth, I am happy that she is also a part of someone I admire and respect greatly.”

Mark gazed at you for a bit, a faint smile on his lips. You couldn’t read it. At once, he gently wrapped you in an embrace, one hand resting on the back of your head. His body felt welcoming and familiar against yours. “This is sudden,” he admitted, speaking against your hair. The vibrations of his voice made the hairs on your neck rise. “But, I think a little part of me knew there was something up. I came back here for a reason, even if I couldn’t place it at first.” His fingers gently wove into your hair, slowly massaging your scalp. You almost purred at the touch, relaxing against his chest. You had unknowingly wrapped your arms around his waist. “The baby… It’s not just yours. It’s ours. And I will be there for it as much as you allow me.” His lips teased the edge of your ear. You shivered. “I’m not leaving,” he spoke.

His fingers unwove from your locks and he stepped back, palms resting on your biceps. Him backing away had felt like a sin - your body begged for the warmth of his contact again. “Okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, before grasping the front of his shirt and shuffling back against his chest. A chuckle rumbled in his ribcage as his arms enveloped you again. You sighed, content. After a few moments, you reached around your back, pushing one of his arms upwards. You nudged until he seemed to understand that you wanted his hand back on your head. He hummed, stroking your hair. “‘M sorry,” you mumbled against his shirt. “It just feels nice to be held.”

“Oh?” he said. His hands left you for a moment and you groaned in protest. It was interrupted by a squeak as his arms dipped under your knees and the small of your back. He lifted you with little to no effort, but you clung to his neck tightly, surprised at the action. You could see a smirk on his face while he walked the both of you back to the couch. Once there, he slowly lowered himself, placing you in his lap. He shifted to get comfortable, then hugged you tightly. You didn’t notice the smile that had formed on your face, you just nuzzled farther into his neck. He responded by softly resting his head on yours.

After a few minutes of silence, doubt came swarming back. You hate how it did that. “Mark,” you murmured.

“Yes?” he replied quietly.

“What…” You hesitated, picking at a loose hangnail. It began to sting. “What are we now?”

He seemed to be thinking. The fresh skin that had been exposed from the hangnail started to produce the tiniest amount of blood. You cringed. “I’m not sure,” he finally answered. It was honest. “But we’ll figure it out.” 

You tried yanking the hangnail one last time and hissed as it only made your wound worse. He flinched a bit, before clasping your hand. “Are you okay?” Mark inquired. He rotated your hand in his until he saw the blood. “Here, come on.” He slowly lifted you from his lap, hand still gently holding yours as he stood. 

He led you to the kitchen where he turned on the sink with his free hand. Gently he guided your injured finger to the water. You resisted a bit, not wanting the pain it would cause. He hushed you, pressing the side of his body closer to yours. He ran your finger in the water and you pressed your face into his shoulder. He slowly hummed a random melody to distract you. 

After a brief moment, he turned off the water, finally releasing your fingers. He straightened himself to open the cabinets above the sink, retrieving a small first-aid kit. Inside, he grabbed an alcohol wipe and a band-aid.

At once, you laughed a bit at how silly this really was. He was treating you gently, like a fragile child. You didn’t mind it, but it was somewhat unexpected. 

With a smile, he glanced at you. “What?”

“This is just silly,” you shook your head. “You don’t have to take care of me, I can do it myself.”

His face turned serious, it made your heart tremble. “I want to,” he affirmed, ripping open the package that held the alcohol wipe.

“O-Okay,” you replied meekly. You had never been treated this way before, with such care. You were always encouraged to manage yourself.

He tenderly patted the wipe onto your wound and you winced at the slight sting. He kept peeking up at you as if monitoring your pain levels. When he felt as if his work was sufficient, he set the dirtied wipe in the trash, then opened up the band-aid packaging. He carefully lined it up with your finger, double-checking and then triple-checking his placement before actually putting it on. Your cheeks were sore from how much you had been smiling. Finished, he stood fully, grinning. He seemed very proud of himself.

“Proved your manliness?” you joked.

His grin somehow grew wider as he nodded. “Yep. I was trained very well in band-aid wrapping.”

You surveyed your finger for a moment. “I can tell.” Something rose in your chest, an irk. “But it’s missing something.”

His eyebrow raised, smile falling a bit. “It is?”

You lifted your single finger closer to him, cheeks heating up. Was this embarrassment or anticipation? “A kiss,” you explained.

He scoffed, beaming again. With great care, he clasped your fist in his palms, guiding your finger to his lips. He placed a single kiss on the bandage before letting go. You felt woozy with adrenaline. Your heart had never raced like this before. “Better?” he asked. You nodded, taking back your hand and shyly tucking it against your chest.

Mark had seemed to catch a glance at the time on his watch. “Do you need to be home soon?” You reached in your pockets, searching for your phone. Once you found it, you quickly checked the time. 8 in the evening. You contemplated.

“Do you mind if I stay a bit longer?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Um-” He stepped away, heading to the living room. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table, going through something on it quickly. A minute passed, then he turned the phone to you, you couldn’t see anything on it - he was too far away.

“What’s up?”

“Want to go see Knives Out?” he suggested.

You began walking around the kitchen island to retrieve your shrug. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go change.” He began to head for the back of the house.

“Why? I think you look great as is.” After you said that, you internally winced. Perhaps that had been too forward for a relationship that had been left undefined.

He stopped in his tracks, eyeing you. A playful smirk coated his face. “Thank you, but I don’t think anybody else would want to see my schlong flopping around while I walk.” He laughed and began walking again.

Instantly, a blush coated your cheeks. You wrung you shrug in between your nervous hands. “W-Wait… That’s not what I -” you heard his bedroom door close behind him, “- meant…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ! ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴏᴜᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ɪɴsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ. ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴀ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴛᴡɪsᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ? ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ sᴇᴇ ;) ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ!


	11. Chapter X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴀɴ ᴀɴxɪᴇᴛʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ.

“I know it’s really early, but have you thought of any names yet?” There was a sharp pinch in your arm and your whole body tensed. Your mother squeezed your opposite hand in reassurance. You tried not to look at the syringe that was beginning to drain your blood, it would only make you dizzy.

“Yeah, I, uh…” You bit your bottom lip. “I really like the name Elaine,” you admitted sheepishly.

“That _is_ a very pretty name. Any particular reason?” She was trying to distract you, you appreciated that.

“It means shining light.”

The nurse looked up at you, smiling. “Very fitting.” Her voice was soft, honest. For some reason, it made you nervous. The needle slipped out and she quickly applied her fingers to the small wound. She grabbed a pad of gauze, replacing her fingers then wrapping it with some tape. She removed the tourniquet, careful not to pinch your skin.

“So,” your mother spoke up for the first time in a while, it made you jump. “Why the blood test? I didn’t think that was a very common practice.”

As the nurse packed her things and cleaned up, she responded, “From what we know, she’s at least 4 weeks pregnant. We typically don’t schedule the first prenatal visit until 8 weeks, but because of her current medications, we thought it’d be best to bring her in a bit sooner.” There was a pause in the air, you were beginning to feel hot. _Medications?_ Was she talking about the zolpidem? “And, not to scare anyone, the urine test came back inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive?” The room started to twist and you gripped the bed handles tightly to keep yourself steady. Nobody seemed to notice besides you.

“It’s possible we just didn’t collect enough urine,” the nurse reassured.

“But, I -” You could feel your head swaying. “I think I peed like… like a lot.”

“The good news is that this blood test will tell us definitively, it’ll just be a few hours. We have a great lounge and a food court, we’ll have someone come to retrieve you when the results are ready.” With everything gathered, she prepared to leave. “Any more questions?”

“What medications are listed on my record?”

She froze for a moment, not expecting that question. “Uh, just one second.” She set her things down and sat at the computer. She typed in your information, tapping on a few things before leaning back. The room was starting to return to normal. Your mother placed a hand against your back, her thumb rubbing circles into your skin. She could probably feel your sweat.

“There’s… alprazolam listed. That was filled about a month and a half ago.”

Your mother stood immediately, treading over to the computer as if to see for herself. You didn’t understand. What was alprazolam? Why was it filled under your name? “My daughter is taking Xanax?” She turned back to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wh-What? I…” The edges of your vision were growing black, and you took a deep, albeit wavering breath. “I never…” You grasped the sides of your head, closing your eyes. You needed to be in control of the darkness. “I don’t remember that being prescribed to me, let alone taking it.”

“The doctor that prescribed it is currently on duty, I’m going to go retrieve him. He should have some more information about why and when it was prescribed.”

“Please. Thanks,” your mother responded. She sounded cold.

You heard the nurse gather her things and leave in somewhat of a hurry. There was a dip in the bed you were sitting on, then a warm hand rested on your thigh.

“I swear, Mom, I never took that. I don’t even remember requesting it.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll figure it out.” You felt knuckles brush against your forehead. “You’re sweating. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just got dizzy,” you affirmed.

“You know… Doctors don’t prescribe Xanax willy nilly.” Her hand settled on your leg again. You still couldn’t open your eyes. “I think you have to have some pretty bad symptoms in order for them to even consider it. It’s very addictive.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t even take it…” You rubbed circles into your temples with your palms.

“That’s not my point, honey… Can you look at me please?” Fatigue filled every ounce of your body, but you used what little energy you had to lift your head and open your eyes. Your hands dropped to your lap. “She said it was prescribed pretty close to when you said you might’ve gotten pregnant. After… After Mark, were you having any anxieties? Maybe you were panicking because you thought Wade would find out?”

Your eyebrows strung together at the suggestion, almost offended by it. “I don’t… I don’t even have anxiety. I’ve never had anxiety.”

“Sweetheart, this kind of thing runs in the family - both on my end and your fathers.” She scooted herself closer to you before wrapping you in a hug, pulling you against her side. “This isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

“Mom, I’m tired…” You could barely keep your eyes open. Your head felt so heavy. “Can we… talk about this… later?”

“Sweetie, are -”

The room’s door opened with a loud click, shoes clapping on the pristine floor. All you could do was move your eyes towards the sound, seeing a man dressed in a lab coat. He had a clipboard in one hand, and as he approached you he pulled a pen out of his breast pocket with the other. He guided the computer’s chair closer to your bed before sitting down on it. He crossed his legs, took a breath in, then smiled tightly at you. You hate doctors. They always smile at you like they know something you don’t - most often, they do.

“Hello, Miss (L/N),” he shifted his gaze to your mother, “and Mrs. (L/N). I heard you had some questions about the medications you were recently prescribed.” He leaned back in the chair, setting the clipboard and pen in his lap before clasping his hands.

“My daughter,” your mother began for you, “she was prescribed Xanax. Neither of us is clear as to why.” Her arm was tightening around you as if sheltering you from something. “In addition to that, isn’t Xanax harmful for the baby?”

“Yes, and I’d like to speak with you about that,” he assured. “I want to be completely transparent with both of you. First in which, why I prescribed the alprazolam.” Doctors always use their fancy words as euphemisms. It doesn’t make it easier, it just makes it more confusing. “When Miss (L/N) came to us the evening I set the prescription, she was very disoriented. She was in a panic-induced state that nobody could get her out of.” His smile lowered, and his eyes looked over you. Could he see how tired you felt? “I believe you were brought in by your then-boyfriend, Miss (L/N). He was very concerned about you, and he had said that you had been that way for a few hours. Nothing could calm you.” He leaned forward again, elbows resting on his knees. “We treated you with alprazolam, and it worked instantaneously. We held you for a few hours, in which you mostly slept. Your boyfriend told me that that had not been the first instance of you panicking, he also informed me of the anxiety issues prevalent in your family. Only then did I prescribe the alprazolam, and your boyfriend assured me he would pick it up as soon as you left the hospital. Now I -”

“I never took it,” you croaked.

“Pardon?”

“I never took the Xanax. I don’t even remember seeing it in the house. I didn’t know it was prescribed to me.”

“Whatever the case, Miss (L/N), I’d like you to know that alprazolam has a history of causing false positives.”

“False positives?” your mother scoffed. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean to say that it can cause false positives with a pregnancy test.” He inhaled deeply, looking at the floor. He wrung his hands before glancing back up at you. “Miss (L/N), do you think there was any chance of the alprazolam being present in your system when you took the pregnancy test?”

Your mind began to race with thoughts, nose turning warm. Tears filled your eyes as you chewed your bottom lip. You didn’t notice that you were picking at the band-aid on your finger. “What are you trying to say?”

The doctor reached out, placing a hand on your knee. Your mother’s grip on your shoulder tightened instinctively. “I can’t tell you conclusively until the blood test is complete, but your urine test came back negative.” He squeezed your knee. “Hypothetically speaking, if the alprazolam was still in your system when you took the pregnancy test, it could’ve caused a false positive.”

You sniffled before wiping away a stray tear that had fallen with the back of your hand. You ran your fingers through your hair haphazardly, no longer wanting to speak. Your thoughts started to drift elsewhere before voices brought you back out.

“I think that’s all we need to hear for right now. We’ll wait for the blood test results,” your mother spoke.

“Miss (L/N), would you like to speak to a counselor? We have great ones on site right now that would be happy to speak with you.”

“No,” you mumbled, gazing at a prenatal health poster across the room. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” he responded softly. The chair creaked under him as he stood. You heard its wheels slide against the tiles as he pushed it back into its place. His shoes clicked more as he walked, opening the door, and then leaving.

All was silent besides the bustling of the hospital outside your door. You swallowed heavily, still staring at the poster. The pregnant woman on it, whether real or not, was beautiful. She looked down at her swollen belly with such happiness, cradling it. Another tear slipped from your eye and you quickly swiped it away. Your gaze drifted back to your own stomach, opening your palms to it. Where you once imagined little nudges of excitement, you felt emptiness - like there was something there before that wasn’t there now.

“What if I just miscarried?” you suggested sorrowfully. “I - I mean, what if I just -”

“The test would still read positive, (Y/N),” your mother replied quietly. She still hadn’t let go of you.

You sighed, a frown etched onto your face. You couldn’t place this feeling. Depression? Disappointment? Failure? “I swear…” Your nose stung, water filling your eyes again. “I swear she was there, Mom. I could feel her. I swear I could… I just…”

Your mother sniffed and when you looked at her, her face was drowning in grief. “I know, baby.” She rested her forehead against yours, running a hand over your cheek. She wiped away the tears you hadn’t realized you shed. “But there’s still a chance, okay?”

“I don’t want to hold onto chances anymore,” you sobbed. You released yourself from her grips, scooting back on the bed. The plastic underneath you crinkled with every movement. You pulled your knees to your chest. You could still feel a phantom of the doctor’s hand on your knee. You scratched at it - you wanted it to go away. You didn’t want to remember. “I-I’m tired! I’m tired of holding onto things that need let go!” You were weeping uncontrollably. You couldn’t think and your mother just watched you. Both of your hands found their way into your hair, you began to pull.

“(Y/N), sweetie, calm down.” She grasped your wrists, tugging gently. You couldn’t let go. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. “Honey, it’s okay. Just breathe. Everything will be okay.”

Breaths came as quickly as they left, all you could feel was your chest rising and falling rapidly. You couldn’t make it stop. You felt your body, but you were locked inside of it. You were powerless. “I-I’m -” You sobbed and your body convulsed. You dry heaved and collapsed in on yourself before recovering. Her fingers were digging into your shoulders, it did little to stabilize you. “So… So -”

“(Y/N), please breathe with me. Watch my fingers, okay? When they open, breathe in. When they close, breathe out. Can you do that for me?” You were shaking. There was something inside of you that wanted out. Why couldn’t you let it out? “(Y/N), can you do that for me?”

“I-I’m so, s-so ti-tired.”

“I know, baby. Just watch my fingers.” You practiced the exercise for a while, managing to somewhat take back control of your lungs. After you had calmed down significantly, you began to slouch. The world was heavy. Your mother pulled you back in slowly for another hug, your forehead resting on her shoulder. Her nails traced patterns on your back. 

After a few minutes, she sat back. She held your hands in hers. “(Y/N), if the test comes back negative, I need you to seriously consider medication…” You had no energy to argue. “Maybe we can get you set up with a therapist, they can be really beneficial.”

“Can we just leave?” Your voice was barely loud enough to hear.

“I promise we will after the results come back.” She rubbed one of your shoulders. “I’m going to go to the food court. I’ll get you some water, but do you want anything to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, text or call if you change your mind.” She stood from the bed, straightening her pants. “Will you be okay alone?”

“Yes.” She examined you. You were hunched over, hair covering your face. Your limbs were limp and tingling.

“I’ll be back soon,” she told you, leaning over to kiss your hair. She brushed some strands from your face but they fell right back. She exited the room and the door clicked shut behind her. 

Exhausted, you laid back against the bed before curling up into the fetal position. You slipped your phone out of your jean’s pocket, turning on the screen. You stared at your background, too many thoughts in your head. After minutes of contemplation, you clicked on the messaging app. You scrolled to a familiar name, tapping it. Swallowing dryly, you began to type.

**Y/N:** _Hey, we need to talk. Can I swing by tomorrow?_

**Mark:** _Of course. Stop by any time, I’ll be home._

You turned off the screen, resting the phone by your head. You were surprised when you felt it vibrate again. Opening the app again, you read.

**Mark:** _Everything okay at the doctor?_

**Y/N:** _Kind of what I need to talk to you about._

**Mark:** _I’m here if you need me. If you need to see me before tomorrow, I will make myself available._

**Y/N:** _I’d just really like to be alone right now._

**Mark:** _Okay, be safe. Call or text whenever._

As you shut down your phone, the room’s door clicked. The same doctor as before entered with your nurse. He had a small file in his hand but their faces told you everything you needed to know.


End file.
